


Wonderwall

by your_starless_eyes



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phil Lester, Falling In Love, Feelings, Inspired by Music, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Nervousness, POV Third Person, Slice of Life, Songfic, Words, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 23:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16504586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_starless_eyes/pseuds/your_starless_eyes
Summary: "Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm absolutely insane, but from the moment I first saw you... I knew it was going to be you."OrThe one in which Phil attempts a love letter.





	Wonderwall

"Just tell him. Write him a letter if you can't speak it. You've got a degree in English, so  _use_  it."

The sage words of advice had been given to Phil by his friend Sarah-Grace, and while at the time it had seemed brilliant...

In practice it seems impossible.

He has the paper sitting on his desk. The pen is in his right hand, and his headphones are playing nineties Brit-rock in his ears. 

And yet, he can't think of how to start.

Surely, it should be simple. Just a few words to depict the overwhelming emotions he has for one very lovely eighteen-year-old boy.

 _Dear Dan_ ,

No. Phil scratches it out, huffing. That sounds too formal.

~~_Dear Dan,_ ~~

_Dan,_

That sounds too  _informal_.

~~_Dear Dan,_ ~~

~~_Dan,_ ~~

_Hi Dan_ ,

Eh. It'll do, for now. He can always clean it up later.

_Hi Dan,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health._

Jesus. Phil groans, crumpling up the lined page and throwing it behind him. He's writing to his lover, not a stranger. He grabs a new sheet.

_Hi Dan,_

_I'm just going to get this all out on paper and hope it's somewhat intelligible._

That's the smartest thing he's written all night, he decides.

_I'm just going to get this all out on paper and hope it's somewhat intelligible. Maybe you understand what it's like to have thoughts that run rampant and keep you from sleep until you release them - like dogs that bark until you let them outside._

Nice. Phil snorts. An excellent simale. He makes a note to fix that later.

_...like dogs that bark until you let them outside. They dive-bomb like hawks, until you can stand it no longer._

Is that worded too pretentiously? 

_They dive-bomb like hawks, until you can stand it no longer. You must release the wild animals that are your thoughts._

Phil frowns. He doesn't know if he likes that metaphor.

_See, the thing is... I love you._

No, no no no no. Phil scribbles over that line until the ink wets the page enough that it tears beneath the metal nib. "Love" is far too strong. He doesn't want to do too much too early and scare the younger boy off. He crumples the page and starts a third time.

_Hey Dan,_

_I'm no wordsmith. I'm not a poet; I have no_ _Shakespearean gifts. However, I need to get some things out of my head._

Does that sound like he's fishing for compliments?

Phil tries to imagine what Sarah-Grace would tell him if she were here.

"Phil-" Oh, God, he can hear it in her voice "-you need to stop overthinking every little thing. The boy's already dating you. He might laugh a bit and call you a sap, but chances are likely he'll find it sweet and romantic. Now quit agonising over every detail and just  _write_!"

Phil thinks In-His-Head Sarah-Grace might be on to something.

He grabs a new sheet of paper and begins to write with a new kind of fervour, allowing his starlit thoughts flow from his mind straight to the pen without inhibition. Phil lets the ink map out the constellations residing deep within his brain, and he - albeit reluctantly - lets the flaws shine like the  Sun.

At the end of the day, Dan is his, and he is Dan's. That means flawed reasoning, indecipherable thoughts, minuscule handwriting, sappily romantic love letters and all.

Hopefully.

_Dear Dan,_

_Look, I'm not going to lie. This letter is going to be messy and possibly ~~hopefully~~  beautiful and everything all at once. I'm not perfect. You're not perfect. Let's hang out!_

~~_If we weren't already together, that'd be the most amazing pick up line, either platonically or romantically. Damn. Lost opportunity._ ~~

_The thing is, Dan... I can't possibly put words to the feelings I have for you. There are twenty six letters in the alphabet, and over one hundred and seventy one thousand words in the English language, but I don't think I could string together the right combination to make you understand. That would be assuming that the right words even exist._

_Maybe I'm crazy - maybe I'm absolutely insane ~~(though we both know for a fact I'm certifiable by this point)~~ \- but from the moment I first saw you... I knew it was going to be you. I just knew it was going to be Dan and Phil, and Phil and Dan, and that was going to be that._

_You make me feel like I'm... special, I guess. The luckiest person alive._

_Wait! Before you say that's a cliché, I want to make a point._

_It wouldn't be said over and over again, in countless letters and literature, in so many different ways, if it weren't true._

_I don't know what I feel. If it's romantic love, hey! That's great. We found it young; we're very lucky. High five, my friend. If it's platonic love, then I'm very okay with that as well. If it's hatred... I've never met a person I love to hate more than you._

_See, my point is very simple, but I fear you may be missing it for it's complex wording._

_Whatever this feeling is I have for you, though I cannot name it, is very strong. It is addictive._

_You are addictive._

_I can't explain it. Whenever you're around, I can't help but feel giddy and light, like a primary school kid around his first crush. Embarrassing as that is to admit, it's true. You're something special. I never want to give you up._

Phil reads over what he's written so far, an involuntary smile crossing his lips. That's good so far. He hums along with the song playing in his ears as he picks up the pen again.

_I never want to give you up. I never want to let you down. I never want to hurt you. Never want to lie to you, to make you cry, to harm you. ~~Were those Rick Astley lyrics?~~_

_You're something so incredibly special. Something incomprehensible. Not to say you're not human and flawed, but ~~you're a special breed of human~~ just absolutely lovely in my eyes. That's the only way I can describe it._

_You are lovely, an_ _d you are loved._

Phil pauses for a second, thinking.

_I think you know the song Wonderwall, by Oasis. I'm currently listening to it. A beautiful song, really, if slightly sad sounding. ~~Mum would put it down to the key, I believe.~~_

_I am a firm believer that things are sad because they are beautiful. Most people might say the opposite - that things are beautiful because they're sad - but I disagree. Sadness and pain are not inherently beautiful. However, beautiful things can be sad. Do you understand?_

_Things that are beautiful... they are beautiful because they invoke an emotional response somewhere inside of you. Something that makes you say, "Oh, I want to keep looking or being around that," because it makes you feel good._

_By that definition, you are beautiful. I like looking at you. I like being around you._

_However, and this goes along with that I was saying a few lines up, I think the reason all beautiful things have an aura of sadness to them is because when they're gone, you no longer have that feeling of happiness. So your brain thinks you're sad._

_All beautiful things are sad. Not all sad things are beautiful. ~~Like every square is a rectangle but not every rectangle is a square.~~_

_Sorry. I have no idea where that tangent came from._

_Back to the whole point of this._

_I think you and I have long, crazy lives in front of us, Dan Howell. I think we are both going to accomplish great and terrible things! I have a good feeling about the future..._

Phil hesitates for just a second.

_I have a good feeling about the future..._

_...and I want to spend mine with you, if you would grant me the privilege._

_Yours,_

_Phil ^-^_

He sets down his pen, waving his hand over the ink to ensure it's dried. Not reading over it again, Phil folds the paper and puts it in an envelope. He quickly seals it, picking up his pen and writing Dan's name on it.

_For: Dan Howell_

_From: Phil Lester_

He sets it on his desk and removes his headphones, the piano, guitar, string and percussion outro of _Wonderwall_  fading away as he sets them down. He shuts down his laptop and turns out the light before climbing into his bed and settling down for the night now that the small galaxy within his mind has been - for the moment - quieted.

He'll give it to Dan the next time they see each other.


End file.
